Street Meat: New York, New York

Flashback. I take a cab from La Guardia airport on the way to my friend’s house in Tribeca, and I have a moment. Like every taxi ride from airport-to house, I fall into a trance. As cliché as this may sound, I’m on the Brooklyn Bridge, looking out at the Empire state building and Jay-Z’s song comes up (I kid you not): “New York, concrete jungle where dreams are made of”…blab la bla “lights will inspire you, they’ll make you feel brand new. Now, you’re in New York, New York, New York!” My heart feels like it’s going to explode from happiness and excitement. This is it. I wanted to come to this city years ago, but it never worked out, especially not on the student budget that I was on. Typically I stayed with my friend from childhood (also from Saudi) who was attending the New York film Academy, doing her masters in Acting. I couldn’t have asked for a better guide to show me around this city. The kind who would stand in the middle of Time Square where all the billboards for musicals are and break out into a hairspray soundtrack with arms facing towards the sky: “Good morning, Timeeeee square!your lights are woooonderful!”  The kind who would watch The Lion King musical with me, even though she’s watched it 7 times already. The kind who would walk me across the Brooklyn Bridge and back and central park from one end to the other. The kind who would patiently take my picture while I posed in front of every landmark that made the vaguest reference to my childhood. John Lennon memorial site, the café in which Friends was filmed, the Rockefeller center where Kevin stands in front of the huge Christmas tree and reunites with his mother in Home Alone 2: lost in New York…the cathedral where Carrie gets married in Sex & the City. Okay, that was adulthood not childhood. I was living the moment, not thinking for a second about life after graduation, “the real world,” and all that bull. Not because I didn’t care, but because I had cared too much in the past 22 years.

After a month long inspiring and impromptu graduation trip to Toronto, New York, L.A,Vegas and London, which I will have flashbacks to more often in this thread, I returned to… Saudi. No, that wasn’t easy. My heart was very happy to be there with my family, in my old room, with my old albums and cds, and memories of a time that seems eons away. But my mind was elsewhere….oh this mind of ours how it can completely paralyze us and stray us away from the present. Why was my mind driving me crazy? Simple. I was anxious to get this thing started. I was impatient and didn’t want to “waste” time. And I was uncertain of where I was going. It drove me insane to think that I was sitting in Saudi doing “nothing” after spending 4 four years working my ass off and living like a polar bear to obtain this piece of paper that was supposedly going to help me get a job I love in no time. Deep inside though, I knew that wasn’t going to happen. I knew that it was going to be a challenge, because that’s who I am. I am not satisfied with something I haven’t earned, or struggled to obtain.

So I complained and complained, for my parents to send me to Lebanon. Then like a crying baby who eventually shuts up and realizes that they’re being annoying, I stopped and said: “alright, if this is where I’m meant to be, bring it on. I’m ready!” My dreams and ambitions can wait a little bit, let’s see what my time here has in store for me. Perhaps a spiritual objective, or something related to family bonding?

Still my mind was restless. I started jotting down ideas, making business plans…maybe I’ll design purses? Or wait, I’ll start a matchmaking service…my grandmother did it, my mother did it, I do it all the time, we should be matchmakers! I did the whole planning only to get this feedback: “people are gonna think you’re pimping girls out.” So I dropped that one. Or did I? Maybe I should start a network for artists in the Middle East? Or do something that exposes me to creative people? A blog perhaps? That is when I started brainstorming on CafeBeirut, but guess what else I ended up doing? the reason behind my NYC flashback…

My mother is a nursery teacher, and the school she works in was begging me to be a substitute teacher as they had a teacher who was going on maternity leave and they desperately needed someone. Which grade? Kg2. As in 6 year olds. As in 24, 6 year old kids. Oh Hell to the no. I didn’t get a degree in media studies only to become a kg2 teacher! At the time I turned it down, I was still in the whining and complaining process. The time when I was constantly reassuring myself: “Oh I’m only here till January, no need to fill up my time with nonsense. I’ll just read some books, work on my blog and chillax.”

2 months later. I took the job. And I must say I’m glad I did because it was a unique experience that I cherish. I acquired patience (to some extent) with kids, thanks to my assistant of course who made it easier. I learned that the New Moon, is when the moon isn’t at all visible in the sky. I got to feel like I’m actually good at math. Most importantly though, I got to laugh. I got to laugh at how simple life used to be when we were children, and didn’t have a care in the world besides receiving a sticker from the teacher we’re trying to suck up to. Their innocence made me put aside my overachieving self, and not take life so seriously. Give every moment the time it deserves and understand that if it’s there, then there is something to take from it. I refer to this story everytime I’m in doubt about something…

Finally, the part about New York. The graduation song that I taught the kids for their “transition” to the 1^st grade, was a variation of Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York.” 

It went something like this: "Start spreadin the news, we're leavin' today. We're gonna BE a part of it. 1st grade 1st graaaade!"

Ha, from cab ride in Manhattan, to KG2 classroom in Saudi. Who would’ve thought? 

Fastforward to the present: I'm standing in the middle of a huge studio, looking at a photo of the Brooklyn Bridge on a projector screen, preparing to do a photoshoot for Carolina Herrera, the theme is Breakfast at Tiffany's and the model looks every bit like a resurrection of the late actress...to be continued

(see previous post - Street Meat: The Move)

*New thread* Street Meat: The Move

INTRODUCING A NEW THREAD CALLED: STREET MEAT

Here’s how it all started.

After 4 years of studying in Canada, 2 years of cloud surfing and roaming around. I am where I am today, because of the transitional period I spent in Lebanon discovering its alternative culture, its art, its newly enriched youth and generation of tree huggers. Those 9 months enriched my whole experience and encouraged me to finally start this blog I've been talking about for years! This was the right place and the right time.

Even though my makeshift goal was to look for a legit job, and  I did so by going to a dozen interviews, at the bottom of my heart I was sure that this wouldn't be the place to start my professional life. So I did some work on the side, and focused on this non-paid, "activity" of mine as many people saw it. But I knew that this blog, the people I would meet through it and the impression I would work hard to make, were the epitome of my career hunt. This was going to help me land my dream job. You might say there’s no such thing as a dream job, but I believe that if you look forward to waking up every morning, then that’s a dream on its own! Living alone in Lebanon as a returning expat for the first time, surrounded by a gang of family members, it was going to require lots of patience, and persistence to dodge the constant interrogations. But I blogged away...in the meantime hitting two birds with one stone. Never had I known that I was actually training for my future job, and my efforts did not go in vain.

Moving to Lebanon was a big, somewhat “irrational” step for me. Many people did not understand it. To tell you the truth, I didn’t either. “Why would you leave Canada, and come to Lebanon!?” You see I always got this insurmountable inspiration from that country, one that is unfortunately often overshadowed by all the flaws that bring it down.  I challenged myself in so many ways and had an amazing adventure. Not to say it was all rainbows and butterflies, I did live through two tragedies which pushed me even more to believe that I was meant to be there. From day 1, I trusted my instincts, even though the end was not clear and full of uncertainties. I did not once regret my time in Lebanon, however when it was time for me to leave. I felt it. I made my decision in one day, packed my bags and took to the road. 

While in Saudi, I decided it was time to give Dubai a try. And I did. I applied for pr jobs but landed an awesome position as a magazine editor, on the other end of the spectrum. For the first time in my life, I made no calculations, had no hesitation, no pre-planning or predispositions. This was meant to be, and I’m gonna take it! I jet setted between Saudi-Lebanon-Dubai for a couple of months until all papers were done. patience. 

courtesy of my Iphone...Ah, the irony

I’ve been in Dubai for a bit more than 2 weeks now. I must say I have plenty to write about, and I promise for it to go beyond my diary. In hopes that you would enjoy reading of course. At first I was confused as to what would happen to my blog once I move here, but again, it all works out when you trust your instincts. I would love to write about my day-to-day life as an editor in this city, at the same time use my contacts and industry relations to publicize the awesome artists and designers I encounter through my blog! 

Dubai, is quite an intriguing place. As you can see in the photo above, which I took at the beach, there's an insane amount of contrast. Women in abayas lounging on the beach (or melting) next to a western lady sun tanning half-naked, while a bedouin passes by on his camel with a backdrop of high-rise towers. The culture is just as contradicting and ironic as this photo. When I came here initially, I saw it as a point in-between Canada, Saudi and Lebanon, a "city" that combines a piece of each of these places. And it does, which is why I always see people who led similar lives as me, a gulf-west-lebo combination. The middle ground being, Dubai. 
I'll leave my thoughts about this city for later, afterall, I've only been here for 3 weeks. And let's just say, now  would be a biased time for me to make any remarks. (Extreme desert heat + Ramadan = not the funnest place to be) 

I've decided to write my own version of Ugly Betty, since I religiously used to watch that show, and now I actually get to live the experience. This is the Middle Eastern version though. Dubbed in Arabic. *Just kidding* Betty was "ugly" compared to her ridiculously gorgeous colleagues, yet she was hard-working and succeeded even more than they did, thanks to her passion and ambition. The contrast on my side is that, I'm a free spirit, a recessionista and my style is the farthest thing from luxurious. However, the magazine I work for is a luxury magazine. I will remain true to myself (thanks to this blog) yet I will have to enter the luxury fashion industry, meet lavish people, and accept invites to dinners and gatherings from the world's most exclusive brands. This will be a challenge, but I'm ready to take it, and share my stories with you! 

I've decided to call it,STREET MEAT. why? Firstly, Street Meat literally refers to those hot dogs you eat on a drunken post-clubbing night, from street vendors. Metaphorically speaking though, I loved the irony in this word composition when used to talk about the superficial world of luxury fashion. Somehow I imagine myself all decked out grabbing a hot dog after a red carpet event...annnnd....yup there drips the ketchup on my dress... 

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